


touch

by minachandler



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Multiple Side Characters - Freeform, Multiverse, infinite earths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minachandler/pseuds/minachandler
Summary: Laurel and Nyssa. Dinah and Amina. Green Arrow and the Black Canary. Daredevil and the Black Sky. The Flash and Vibe.Across the multiverse, they go by many names, surrounded by different people at different times in their lives. But there is one golden link between the Dinah Laurel Lances and Nyssa Raatkos across the infinite earths - that they always find each other. And every time, their story starts with a single touch.
Relationships: Nyssa al Ghul/Laurel Lance
Comments: 27
Kudos: 30





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! So this one is actually long in the making. I have long since loved the idea of Lauryssa on multiple earths, and then I got talking about a few of these earths with a friend and this thing kinda snowballed. 
> 
> Each chapter of this takes place on a different earth, and bar the prologue, everything stands alone on its own. For each chapter I will be putting a summary of who's who, because I've done a fair few switcheroos. :)

** Earth-∞ **

_(In which Laurel is the Flash, assisted by genius engineer and best friend Iris West. With an appearance - of sorts - from Nyssa as Vibe.)_

“This is so cool!”

Despite herself, it seemed, Iris West’s voice in her ear was clearly one holding back a laugh. “Laurel, you know I love you to pieces, but we need to work on your definition of ‘cool’.”

After zooming into the burning apartment and landing a couple of old ladies unceremoniously on the grass to safety, Laurel said, “Okay, but you know what I mean, right? Come on. The two of us, saving the world, just like we’ve always wanted.”

“That part is cool,” Iris admitted. “But still - a little on the nose when you’ve just come out of a house that is literally on fire, don’t you think?”

Laurel chuckled. “Nothing I can’t handle, I’m sure.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet.”

“I think I have everyone out of the building now,” Laurel said. “Iris, do you know how I could put out the fire?”

“Theoretically, yes, but -”

“But what? Come on. This is why we make such a good team - I run, you nerd.”

“And that’s really cute, Laurel, but you’ve never put out a fire before. I’m not even sure my way would work. You should wait for the fire services to come and -”

“What’s the point in me having super speed if I can’t really help people, Iris?”

“You have helped people. You just got a whole bunch of people out of a fire. But you’re not invincible. You don’t want to overdo it. Especially if you’re out of your depth.”

“I’m not out of my depth,” Laurel said - and some part of her knew she was being stupidly stubborn, but she could feel the adrenaline pumping in her blood, the lightning in her veins, and knew this wasn’t over yet. “Look, I have to try, right? At least until the emergency services get here? I can do this, Iris. Talk me through it. Please.”

A sigh. Then, Iris said in a resigned voice, “Okay. But the first sign of anything going wrong, you’re gonna get your ass out of there. Understood?”

Laurel grinned. “As fast as I can.” With a flash of lightning Laurel was running into the building once more, avoiding the flames mostly with ease. “Okay. I’m inside. What do I need to do?”

“You need to use your arms to create wind funnels, okay? Suck all the oxygen out of the room, and that will put the fire out.” Iris hesitated, then added, “Theoretically.”

“On it,” Laurel said, undeterred by the doubts she could hear in the back of her mind and in her ear. But to her horror, the flames didn’t go out - if anything they intensified. “It’s not - working!”

“Get out of there, then,” Iris said instantly, but the panic that was now in Laurel’s ear took over and stopped Laurel from moving at all.

The fastest woman alive - paralysed with shock.

“Laurel? Did you hear me? Get out of there! Or - I don’t know - try funnelling the other way! Laurel!”

The ceiling, already aflame, was falling apart. A chandelier wobbled dangerously just above her head, in a way that would have been comical if it was happening to a cartoon character, rather than right now to Laurel in Flashtime, one excruciating eternity after another. Iris’s voice was slowing, fading, and Laurel was kicking herself, unable to believe she had been so reckless and would die in such a needless and entirely preventable way.

It was strange. In spite of her (relatively new) night job, she hadn’t really thought about herself dying. Not really. Not except in the fleeting, faraway sense, a possibility rather than an inevitability.

Iris was right. Laurel was convinced she was invincible, even though she wasn’t.

But now, with her sister’s face swimming before her mind’s eye, then Iris’s - she knew she wouldn’t have been able to picture anyone else in a moment like this. It was this feeling of resigned acceptance that calmed her, in some unbelievable way, stilled her racing heart, making her move in slow motion -

_She could move again._

She wasn’t going to die. The realisation hit her as surely as the lightning that returned home to her limbs where it belonged, and Laurel began to run in earnest, remembering Iris’s words to her when they first discovered her speed: “Run, Laurel. Run.”

And run Laurel did, for her life, which she wasn’t going to give up without a fight - she couldn’t, but she was in a burning building that was about to collapse on top of her one flaming storey at a time and even the fastest woman alive, it seemed, was unable to outrun the doorway that fell in on itself. She looked around desperately, searching for another exit, but she could barely see through smoke. She looked down at her hands, horrified as the gloves she wore began to burn away, along with her suit, and she knew her own skin would be next -

But then, unbidden, at the last possible second, Laurel felt a hand close around her wrist. There was a tug, a flash of blue, as Laurel clung on to her saviour’s hand for dear life. And it was as hot skin touched cold sweat, bruised knees hitting solid and mercifully dry ground, that her life and a multitude of others flashed before their eyes.

And in that single moment, everything changed.


	2. earth-1

** Earth-1 **

_(In which Laurel is the Black Canary and Nyssa has recently started training her, circa 3x17.)_

Laurel woke with a start. The crackling sound of a thunderclap whipped through the air, followed by lashings of rain. Disoriented, she looked around sleepily, just about registering the ache in her neck from sleeping at an awkward angle with one arm in a cast.

Then she realised where she was, in her living room, against some cushions, and that she was on the floor because her couch a few feet away was occupied - by none other than Nyssa al Ghul.

She shouldn't have been surprised, really, given they were teetering on the edge of actual friendship now, but Laurel couldn't suspend that slight feeling of amused disbelief even if she wanted to. She wondered how they got here, the two of them, an unlikely duo made all the more unexpected because they had every reason not to be comfortable in each other's presence.

Yet they were. At least on Laurel's side - her life had been in Nyssa's hands a fair few times now while they had been training on the street, and not once had Nyssa let that slip through her fingers. God only knew when it had happened, but Laurel trusted this woman with her life.

Laurel looked up, taking in the rare sight of a literal assassin sleeping on her couch, and bit back a chuckle. Even rarer was the fact that she, Laurel, was privy to seeing Nyssa like this, relaxed, limbs for once not firmly arranged in her graceful fighting stance, and eyes closed so Laurel could see every single one of Nyssa’s lashes, longer, thicker, and so much more beautiful up close.

It was now, though, that another part of her felt like she was intruding, so Laurel lowered her gaze, to Nyssa's arm, hanging off the edge of the couch as she lay on her front, breathing deeply. Her fingers were outstretched, curved towards her, inches from Laurel's, practically inviting Laurel to take Nyssa's hand. And unbidden in Laurel's mind, she wondered if in some faraway alternate universe, another version of her, a braver version, would muster up the courage to take Nyssa's hand, like she had wanted to since their first dinner together weeks ago.

But she wasn't that person. She didn't have the guts - somewhat ironic given that thanks to Nyssa, Laurel was getting used to whipping across Starling City’s rooftops.

Giving in to a feeling she wasn't even sure she wanted to name, though? That took a different kind of daring. The warmth of that kind of fire was enticing, sure. Sometimes, perhaps, the flames of something more would dance dangerously in Nyssa's eyes when she stood a little too close, her hand lingering on Laurel's hip a moment too long as she corrected her posture with nothing, of course, but good intentions - yet Laurel had been burned far too much all the times she'd touched it before.

Sighing, Laurel got to her feet reluctantly, making her way into her room. There was no point, really, in thinking about all the what-ifs, things she could hypothetically do or say. No, she decided. Better to focus on what she _could_ do. She rummaged in her drawer for a blanket, a feat made slightly more difficult one-handed, and returned to the living room a minute later.

Laurel unfolded the blanket clumsily, leaning over Nyssa to put it on top of her -

\- but a split second after she did so, Laurel found herself gasping for air as Nyssa's hand closed around her throat.

"Nyssa - what are you - it's _me_!" Laurel choked out.

It was only when Laurel covered Nyssa's hand with her own that her grip slackened, and Nyssa's eyes widened as she realised what had happened.

"Laurel, I -"

"It's okay," Laurel said. She'd wanted to speak softly, but her voice was still hoarse. And the way Nyssa covered her face with her hands and got to her feet, the blanket falling off her, it was clear it didn't make a difference as Nyssa proceeded to put as much distance between them as humanly possible without leaving the room.

"I thought -" Nyssa started to say, but then she faltered. "I was dreaming. I'm sorry, Laurel, I thought -"

"Nyssa," Laurel interrupted, and after a moment's hesitation she put her hand tentatively on Nyssa's shoulder. "Hey. It's okay. I promise. I know you wouldn't hurt me on purpose."

Nyssa twitched for a moment under her hand, and Laurel worried that she was going to throw it off. She didn't, but she did not turn around either. "I seem to remember our very first meeting involved me hurting you on purpose."

"I don't care about that anymore. We both know that's not who you are." Laurel didn't move her hand, and to her relief Nyssa then sighed and relaxed under her touch, turning around.

"How is your arm?"

"Hurts like a bitch," Laurel admitted without thinking, but thankfully the ice broke a bit, enough for them both to huff a shared laugh. "I'm kidding. Maybe. It's fine, really.”

“How do you plan on explaining it?”

“The cast? I’ll think of something,” Laurel said with a shrug. “Did you like the movie, then?"

“How old were you when you first watched this?”

Laurel had to think about that for a second. “Hmm. Nine, I think? I remember watching it with Sara. Nala was always my favourite character.”

“And mine,” Nyssa replied, surprising Laurel with a smile, even if it was a watery one. They were clearly deflecting, both of them, pretending that the tears in Nyssa's eyes weren't there and that Laurel's breathing wasn't still ragged. “I will admit to having a soft spot for Simba too. He is… rather endearing at the beginning.”

“So you liked it?”

"Far more than the pizza."

Laurel shrugged. "Pineapple isn't for everyone, I guess. But I have some ice cream in the freezer if you want it."

Nyssa's eyebrows perked up at this, and Laurel was glad to put a bit of distance between them, if only to allow for Nyssa to properly collect herself. Sure enough, when she joined Laurel in the kitchen several minutes later, wrapped in Laurel's blanket, her eyes were still red but at least they were no longer brimming with unwanted emotion.

Laurel didn't ask what happened - she was starting to get that Nyssa would open up to her in her own time. And she did, once they had sat on the kitchen counter side by side, eating ice cream in silence.

"Sorry I only had vanilla," Laurel said after a couple minutes.

"I like vanilla," Nyssa replied with a smile. Laurel smiled back, but somehow that seemed to just make Nyssa’s disappear. "I'm sorry for what just happened."

"I told you -"

"Maybe you don’t care,” Nyssa said, “but I do.”

“What did happen?” Laurel asked tentatively. “Was it a - nightmare?”

Nyssa shook her head. “In all honesty I’m still rediscovering what it means to dream. No, I was just asleep. But that doesn’t mean the warrior in me is.” Laurel raised her eyebrows at this, and Nyssa continued, “It’s a survival instinct. Built into me, a base and rudimentary part of the world I come from.”

“You’re not in that world anymore,” Laurel told her softly. “You know that, right?”

“So does that mean you’re not scared of me?”

“What makes you say think I am?”

Beside her, Nyssa shifted, and Laurel was suddenly acutely aware of the flutter of Nyssa’s breath on her neck, the gentle press of Laurel’s thigh against Nyssa’s, and then - Laurel was sure her heart skipped several beats altogether - the pad of Nyssa’s thumb on Laurel’s pulse point on the inside of her wrist.

“Your heart,” Nyssa answered simply.

Laurel let out the breath she was only vaguely aware she was holding, wishing her treacherous pulse would stop throbbing already. She didn’t answer Nyssa’s question, the one that hung in the air between them, weighing on both their shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said instead.

“That makes two of us.”

Nyssa hadn’t let go of Laurel’s wrist, though her hold had loosened a little. “You’re a protector, Nyssa. I have no reason to fear you.”

“Who do _I_ protect?” Nyssa said disbelievingly.

“Me.” Laurel held Nyssa’s gaze, as her hand slipped into Nyssa’s, and then for good measure Laurel gave her a reassuring squeeze. At first Nyssa froze, and Laurel wondered if she’d gone too far, but then Nyssa smiled, squeezing back, her rich brown eyes alight and filled with things that both of them knew were better left unsaid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line at the end about being a protector is taken from the Marvel show Cloak and Dagger.


	3. earth-19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! It has been a while since I have updated this, but in my defence, I've been busy in the middle of a pandemic. Which... actually is the setting of this fic. I'm going a bit stir-crazy working from home, so I managed to squeeze out this thing which is full of fluff and sappiness, lol. I hope you like!
> 
> Shoutout to Laurie for the encouragement, and for the Nutella idea.

_ (In which Laurel is a lawyer, Nyssa is a former assassin, they're married and have a young daughter, named after Nyssa's mother. Oh, and they're all in quarantine during a pandemic.) _

"Amina?" Laurel called, and then she swore under her breath as her laptop charger got tangled around her ankle. "Amina, baby, are you okay?" 

She didn't get an answer but did hear the faint sound of giggling coming from the living room. Not for the first time, Laurel fervently wished she could afford a bigger apartment, so she didn't have to go through this quarantine in a cramped space in the corner of her bedroom. 

Working from home was hard, and not something she was used to at all. She'd always seen it as a temporary measure on the odd occasion she'd had to bring casework home with her, but now they had a child in the mix, that made things difficult on an ordinary day - let in the midst of a pandemic. Laurel loved her daughter to pieces, but loving someone - at least in Laurel's experience - never stopped them being a handful. Laurel was a prime example of that. 

(It didn't help either that Laurel just had her first argument with her wife since the stay at home order came in three days ago, and Laurel's only way of processing that so far was by tackling the million and one legal documents in the case she was working.) 

"It's all right, Laurel - she's with me," another voice called. Somehow even though they'd just had a row, Laurel instinctively smiled at the sound of Nyssa's voice, soothing some of the ache of guilt in Laurel's heart. 

Then, a much higher voice chirped up, "We're having a tea party, Mommy! Can you come and play with us too?" 

Still smiling, Laurel glanced at her watch and saw it was two minutes to five. She didn't technically have a nine to five job, but it was Friday after all, and she wouldn't have to video conference into court until next week. She could take a break. 

Laurel put her laptop to sleep, turning off her tablet, and she got to her feet, slipping them into the new fluffy slippers Nyssa had gotten for her - a matching set, she'd said, for the family.

When she got to the living room she stopped for a moment, taking in the wonderful absurdity of the scene before her: Nyssa Raatko, a reformed assassin capable of strangling a man with a single hand without breaking a sweat, was sitting cross-legged on the rug, sipping from a tiny pink cup. Opposite her was their six-year-old daughter, Amina, sipping what appeared to be milk, and on the coffee table crammed in just behind them was an array of scones, jam, cream and for some reason Nutella. 

Laurel bit back a chuckle, then padded softly across the carpet, getting slowly on one knee and placing a hand on her daughter's tiny shoulder. 

"Hey, sweetheart," Laurel said with a smile. 

"Mommy! You want some tea?" Laurel's little girl offered her mom her own cup, and Laurel's smile just widened. 

"It's okay, baby. I'll steal some of your mama's instead." 

Amina just shrugged, picking up a scone (which Nyssa had clearly lathered in chocolate) and giving it a sniff. 

"I thought scones were supposed to be with jam?" Laurel said. Nyssa was avoiding her gaze, and it took everything in Laurel to soldier on. "Nyssa?" As Nyssa finally looked up and met Laurel's eyes, Laurel let out a breath of relief she wasn't even sure she'd earned. Laurel was hesitant, until she felt Nyssa's warm hand on her knee. 

"She likes to mix it up a bit," Nyssa replied. She held out her cup of tea. "Peace offering?" 

Gratefully Laurel took the cup from Nyssa, Nyssa's thumb ever so briefly brushing against Laurel's palm. Laurel drained what was left of the tea, hot and sweet like she knew Nyssa liked it, and instantly she felt filled with warmth. Only the tears and pent-up emotion that came with being stuck inside didn't get pushed down - if anything, seeing Nyssa, her eyes pleading with her for forgiveness Laurel didn't even really owe her, made all of that come flooding back. 

Laurel looked away, realising almost too late that she was crying. "I'm sorry." She got to her feet but at the same time so did Nyssa, and it was lucky too, because in that moment Laurel's hands shook so badly she dropped her cup - which Nyssa caught easily, placing it on the coffee table. 

"Laurel," Nyssa said softly, "it's okay." 

"Is it? I've put a lot on you, Nyssa. Adopting Amina -" 

"- was our choice," Nyssa interrupted. "And it was  _ mine _ to take care of her." 

"I'm sorry I yelled at you. And I know you're doing your best. I'm sorry my job isn't good enough to support us right now -" 

"Ya Laurel," Nyssa said, and now she reached out, brushed away the tear tracks on Laurel's cheeks with her thumbs. "Your job is fine. And we will be too. No one could have predicted that we'd be living in the middle of a pandemic. There is no doubting your intelligence, dearest, but you cannot tell the future." 

"How can you be so optimistic when the world is going to shit -" Laurel broke off then at the look on her wife's face. Nyssa's forehead creased slightly into a frown and she cleared her throat pointedly, but with the corners of her mouth twitching, as if on the edge of a smile. "Sorry. I need to work on that. Maybe we need a swear jar. Okay. How can you be so positive when everything is going horribly wrong right now?" 

"I am simply trying to see the best in a terrible situation," Nyssa said, leaning her forehead against Laurel's. "Much like  _ someone _ once saw the best in me not so long ago." 

"That's all I ever saw," Laurel whispered, and even as more goddamn tears welled in her eyes, Laurel looked up at her wife, eyes smiling behind glistening lashes. They leaned in at the same time and their lips met for a kiss. Laurel tasted the salt of Nyssa's tears but also the promise she'd made to Laurel on their wedding day to love her forever, for better or worse.

Then a small hand tugged at Laurel's sleeve. 

"Mommy? Why are you crying?" Amina said, and to Laurel's dismay her daughter looked close to tears herself. Nyssa looked at Laurel in silence, and a moment of understanding passed between then before Nyssa bent down and picked up their daughter. 

"It's okay, baby." Laurel reached out and booped her on the nose. "Mommy's crying because she's happy." 

"Really?" 

Laurel nodded. "Really. And do you know who makes Mommy happy?" Amina considered for a moment, and then her eyes lit up and she grinned, pointing at her mama. "Of course, honey, but there's someone else too." 

"Who?" 

“She means you, silly," Nyssa said fondly, placing her back on the floor and then sitting down herself. "Now, I believe we were in the middle of a tea party. Your mother probably needs to get back to work, so we shouldn't keep her -"

"Actually, I'm done for the day," Laurel said, sitting down where Nyssa was sitting minutes ago. She looked up at her wife with a smile. "So I'm all yours." Nyssa smiled back, her eyes lingering on Laurel's, until their daughter shoved a scone in her mama's mouth, covered in a spoonful of Nutella. "Careful, sweetie," Laurel said with a laugh. 

"Isn't it so yummy, Mama?" 

After getting over the initial surprise, as Nyssa started chewing she raised her eyebrows in surprise. "That's actually not bad. But we need more tea." 

Laurel got to her feet. "Coming right up."

On an impulse she whipped out her phone and snapped a photo of them when they weren't looking. Nyssa was listening intently to Amina babbling about her dolls, so, surreptitiously, Laurel bent down, dropped a kiss on their daughter's head, squeezing her wife's hand as she did so. 

When Laurel looked at the photo later, her wife and daughter with identical chocolate grins on their faces, she was genuinely surprised her heart hadn't burst with love. 

This was her family, after all. It was small, imperfect, and all three of them were handfuls, but she knew at any given time, there was nowhere else she'd rather be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I know this is a difficult time for everyone and I hope that anyone reading this is staying safe. This is just my way of dealing with suddenly being stuck at home. There's a lot of me in this fic, so I hope you liked. Please leave a comment if this is something you enjoyed - you probably do have the time now, right? ;)


	4. earth-2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Soph for reading this one over and giving me much needed suggestions. I am a total procrastinator which is why this one has been on the backburner, but I'm hoping that I can get back to it now I have hopefully found my groove again :) 
> 
> Also, this one is totally in the spirit of Pride, but please heed the warning of referenced homophobia.

**Earth-2**

_ (In which [Dinah] Laurel Lance, pre her Black Siren days, as a teenager hopelessly in love with her best friend, Amina Raatko II, or Nyssa’s doppelganger.) _

"Keep your back straight."

"Why can't I keep it gay?" Dinah said, and despite Amina's best efforts to maintain her composure, Dinah could feel, from Amina's hand in the small of her back, that her best friend was only just holding back a silent quake of laughter. 

They were standing in a field close to their school, where they'd been training for a while now. It was nice, being here, not least because it was empty around them, what felt like miles and miles of blank space that was theirs alone. It made Dinah think - somewhat wistfully - that for a while she could pretend they were the only two people on the face of the earth they stood on. 

It was a good feeling, while it lasted. 

"Back  _ straight _ , Dinah, and feet apart," Amina said, her commanding voice (which got under Dinah’s skin, literally, making her shiver involuntarily) betrayed only slightly by a tinge of amusement. "If you're serious about learning archery -" 

"Of course I am - why else would I spend two whole hours slapping water with you?" 

"- you need to quit having such sloppy posture. Irrespective of how many girls you like," Amina added, now with a clearly teasing lilt in her tone. 

"You're so bossy," Dinah complained, but of course it was with fondness as she looked at her friend and caught her gaze. She didn't add, though, that there was only one girl she liked, and Dinah was looking at her. 

"You're a brat." 

"You love me," Dinah retorted, without thinking, but perhaps thankfully, she wasn’t able to linger over her petulant slip of tongue even for a second, as just then her breath caught in her throat when she felt Amina's foot go between hers to nudge them further apart. 

"I do," Amina agreed, "but I don't love your really weak foundation. You're opening yourself up to attack." 

Dinah was confused now. "So you're teaching me self-defence?" 

"Archery involves a weapon. One that I hope you only ever have to use on targets. But if you do find yourself in a situation where you need to defend yourself - at least you'll be prepared." 

Turning her head slightly, Dinah met Amina's eyes. "Come on. I can't even kill a spider without feeling guilty."

"And I hope that never changes,” Amina said sincerely. Then she cleared her throat, saying in a businesslike tone, “But in the meantime, you need a strong foundation. So you need to have your feet apart."

Dinah tried not to show her disappointment when Amina stepped away from her for a moment, but thankfully she returned seconds later bearing her bow. It was hard for Dinah not to admire Amina when she was like this, brow furrowed, tongue between her teeth in concentration, in her element as she handed the bow to Dinah. Dinah took it, but of course Amina had to correct her grip, and Dinah could feel the goosebumps erupting on her spine even before Amina’s cool palm closed over Dinah’s fingers.

"How many times, Dinah? Back  _ straight _ ," Amina ordered, and Dinah bit back a laugh as she did as she was told. Amina reached behind her to get an arrow out of her quiver - it was purple, because of course Amina Raatko would make her own purple arrowheads - and Dinah thought Amina was giving it to her, but their hands were still touching, ever so slightly, when Amina guided Dinah's fingers down the drawstring. "You feel that?" Amina's breath was warm, soft, as it tickled the shell of Dinah's ear, and she had to remember to breathe a moment later. 

The drawstring was taut as Dinah tugged it back. "Yeah." Too quickly though she let go, and the arrow only zoomed forward a foot or so before veering downwards into the grass, nowhere near the target. 

"Remember what we talked about." 

Somehow, infuriatingly, Dinah’s brain chose that moment to short-circuit, and at Amina’s raised eyebrows Dinah could only blink - rather stupidly, it felt. "What  _ did _ we talk about?" 

"When you were slapping water," Amina said, shaking her head in faint exasperation. "I told you it was about one thing. Control. Watch." 

And watch Dinah did, eyes widened as Amina swiped the bow from her and shot an arrow at the target with such speed that even she seemed to be shocked when it landed on the bullseye. 

_ Wow, that's hot,  _ Dinah thought, and only when Amina burst out laughing did Dinah realise she had said that aloud. 

_ Shit.  _ For a moment Dinah was sure her heart had thudded to an absolute halt, and when Amina ducked her head in what Dinah could only perceive as embarrassment, Dinah could feel her cheeks heat up. With her tongue trying and failing to find the right words, Dinah spluttered, blinking rapidly, not sure whether to be reassured at the sparkle of amusement in Amina’s eyes as she regarded Dinah.

"Thank you?" she said with only a touch of uncertainty, but that was enough to make Dinah clam up instantly, extinguishing the flicker of relief Dinah had had seconds earlier. 

"Sorry," Dinah muttered. "I - didn't think -" 

"Dinah," Amina interrupted, "why are you even apologising? It's not like you said anything bad." 

"No, it's not that," Dinah answered. "I know it's not  _ bad _ , I just -" But Dinah couldn't quite put her finger on what was bothering her, because Amina was right. Dinah knew that much. 

It was like Amina read her mind, because she then set down the bow and sat cross-legged on the grass. When Dinah looked down curiously (they were technically still training, after all), Amina wordlessly held out her hand; almost instinctively, Dinah took it and let her best friend pull her down to her level, so she too was on the grass. 

There was silence for a moment, as Dinah found it in her to meet her best friend's eyes. It was only then that Amina spoke. 

"Did I… do something wrong?" Amina asked after a moment. Her easy smile was gone, replaced with a worried expression, lips pressed together after she spoke, as if on the very edge of a grimace. 

"What?" Dinah said, nonplussed for a second, but then recognising the concerned look on Amina's face. 

(Sometimes she forgot she had anyone to worry about her.) 

Amina shifted where she was sitting, leaning against Dinah a little as she stretched her legs and leaned back, palms against the grass. And maybe it was the heat, but as Amina looked up at the cloudless blue sky, Dinah couldn't help gazing at her profile, the reddish tint of the sun visible as her dark hair swung back, and the sharpness of her cheekbones catching the sunlight at all the right angles. Amina was thinking, and even now when Dinah was practically busted - she couldn't stop admiring Amina even if she wanted to. "Ever since you came out at school… I don't know. You seem - I'm just used to you wearing your heart on your sleeve. You know. Within reach. And now I can't see it or touch it. I get the feeling you've closed yourself off a bit. Even when you're trying to act normal, like nothing has changed with you. And I just want to know if it's something I said, or did, because -"

"No," Dinah cut across her firmly. "Never. Out of everyone, you're the one girl who hasn't automatically assumed I like you." 

"You don't like me?" Amina said, and Dinah automatically relaxed, relieved that almost of their own accord they were back to their usual banter. As usual, Amina tried and failed to sound affronted, and as usual, Dinah smiled and shook her head. 

"Not even a little." Dinah saw her smile returned on Amina's lips - but Dinah knew it wouldn't last forever. At some point she'd break. Especially when Amina looked serious again. 

"For real, though - is that what everyone said? That being gay means you must have a crush on every girl with a pulse?" 

Dinah wasn't sure why she was holding back her wince, but she was - there was something about Amina that made her want to be strong around her. So Dinah just shrugged. "Something like that." Then, before she could stop herself, she added, "And the boys weren't much better - they would be like, 'that's hot, can I watch?'" 

Amina visibly recoiled at that. "Ugh. People are so shitty. I'm sorry, Dinah." 

"Don't be. You were the one exception to that," Dinah told her, and maybe her heart slowed a little knowing that she meant it. 

"But you do think  _ I'm _ hot," Amina said, and it was less of a question, Dinah thought, more a statement of fact. Yet it was said with a smile and somehow it calmed Dinah a little more. 

"I shouldn't have said that. That would just prove everyone right - that I want to kiss every girl in arm's reach of me." 

Dinah thought of what she'd done after gym class yesterday, when she had hidden in the bathroom for half an hour after class. She'd heard muttering behind her back about what gays liked to do in the locker room, and something inside her had just snapped. 

"Do you? Want to kiss every girl in Central City?"

Sighing, Dinah stretched out her legs and lay back, looking up at the sky to avoid Amina's gaze. "No," Dinah said, being truthful for the first time. "Just one. But I don't think she'd want to kiss me back." 

She shut her eyes, finding the sun too bright even outside her line of vision, but grateful for the ready excuse for her rosy cheeks. 

Dinah felt the gentle tug at her shoulders first. She tensed for a moment, before automatically relaxing into Amina's familiar touch, as her best friend pulled her back a couple inches until Dinah's head rested against Amina's lap.

She had maybe five seconds, as Amina waited, as if expecting Dinah to object, but this didn't feel real. This felt like a dream, the two of them together, and in all the times Amina had appeared in her dreams, Dinah had never hesitated nor objected to Amina's touch. 

So the fingertips touching Dinah’s jaw felt dreamlike too, just like Amina's hand cradling Dinah's cheek from above, and the way her hair fell to brush softly against Dinah's neck. 

But the whisper of breath on Dinah's nose - that felt real. So too were Amina's lips, a hundred times more gentle than Dinah had imagined, and the quick dart of her tongue, sweeter than even Dinah's wildest dreams - but that taste was fleeting, before all at once Dinah came crashing down to earth. Her eyes fluttered open, and somehow, miraculously, Amina's beautiful face was peering back at her. Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, and then a flash of worry. 

"Amina -" Dinah began to say, just as her friend said "Dinah," and they both let out a nervous chuckle. "You go first," Dinah said. 

Twirling her hair with her finger, Amina said, "I was going to say 'maybe the girl you wanna kiss might get there first… but now I'm wondering if you meant someone else." 

Relief, sweet and warm and comforting, blanketed Dinah so completely that she was sure for a moment she forgot how to breathe. Giving herself a moment to right herself, Dinah sat up, the smile on her face threatening to split her face in two. She reached out, like she'd always wanted to, and tucked several runaway strands of hair behind Amina's ear.

"No one else," Dinah told her softly. "There's only ever been you." 

"Good," Amina whispered back. "I have a feeling jealousy wouldn't be a good look on me." They shared a laugh, and then Amina said, "So… aren't you going to ask me?" 

"Ask you what?" 

"What I am. Gay, straight, bi, pan -" 

"I don't need to know. I know the only thing that matters." Dinah paused, running her thumb down Amina's cheek and stopping just short of her chin. 

Amina closed her eyes at her touch, again in the way Dinah had only ever dreamed of. But then she opened them again, meeting her gaze and quirking an eyebrow. "Well? Don't keep me in suspense, Dinah Lance." 

It took several moments and deep breaths for Dinah to say what she wanted to. "I know that I love you." Amina opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, and Dinah couldn't resist leaning in and kissing her this time. It was less fleeting this time, filled with the promise of so many more. "And I know that you don't hate me for it."

"Never. I could never hate you. Not when I love you back." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? If you liked this fic, please leave a comment in that box below! Even if you leave one word or an emoji, any and all feedback, provided you enjoyed the fic, is so very welcome.
> 
> Thanks very much for reading!


	5. earth-44

**Earth-44**

_(In which Laurel and Nyssa are immortals who have been together for a thousand years fighting righteous battles side by side as part of an army, a la Nicolo di Genova and Yusuf al-Kaysani in **The Old Guard.** )_

The chains cut coldly on Laurel's wrists, drawing blood, but she barely noticed as she continued to struggle against them. She had eyes only for Nyssa. Even after an eternity of witnessing the love of her life die and come back, Laurel could not bear to even contemplate a world without Nyssa in it. 

There were questions, vague and half-formed in her mind, about why they were taken, where the others were, particularly their newest recruit, Sarah Diggle, for whom Laurel and Nyssa already felt responsible. 

Laurel wanted to know who these soldiers around them were, where they were going - and, of course, the age-old question about whether they had finally been caught, and if they would be put in a cage as a lab experiment. 

But at the forefront of Laurel's thoughts was what lay before her, and that was her beloved, her partner, and her soulmate. Nyssa was sprawled on her front, having been shot when attempting to escape her restraints, and even now as Laurel's eyes moved down further, she winced at the sight of Nyssa’s lifeless body.

This was always the worst part. While Laurel and Nyssa were hardly strangers to immortality and its secrets, no amount of dying could make Laurel used to the agonising seconds and minutes before Nyssa finally gasped back to life. And the hard truth was that despite Nyssa's words that she would always come back, they both knew this was impossible to predict. Their immortality would run out one day, and every time they got caught in the crosshairs of another enemy, Laurel wondered if today was it. 

"Nyssa," she whispered, feeling a surge of anger not at the tears that stung in her eyes but that one of the soldiers - a square-jawed blond man - was eyeing her closely. "Nyssa, habibti - wake up." 

But Nyssa was still motionless in the armoured van. The soldiers had shot her squarely in the back, but that had been minutes ago, surely. She should have awakened by now. Unless… 

"Ya Nyssa!" Laurel cried, louder this time, and the blond soldier grabbed her by the shoulders roughly. 

"Oi. Shut up!" 

Laurel just ignored him, reaching out despite her restraints to touch Nyssa's cheek. "Nyssa, please. It's me, habibti. Wake up!" 

"I just told you to shut the fuck up!" the soldier barked. 

"Or what?" Laurel shot back. "You can kill me too if you want. I’ll just come back, and make no mistake - I'll be angrier." The guard spluttered at that, unable to form anything coherent in reply, and Laurel went back to shaking Nyssa in an effort to rouse her. "Come back to me, my love. Please." For good measure, Laurel blessed herself and said a silent prayer, and somehow, miraculously,  _ someone _ upstairs seemed to have heard her, because Nyssa then started coughing.

Automatically Laurel looked up at the heavens above - obscured, of course, by the armoured ceiling of the van, which should have made it less poetic - and thanked every deity she could name in her head. There was blood in Nyssa's hair as Laurel stroked it tenderly, leaning forward so her forehead touched the crown of her beloved. 

"Are you okay?" Laurel asked softly in Arabic. 

"I think so," Nyssa replied, also in Arabic, before switching loudly to English. "Very pissed off, though."

"As am I," Laurel said, glowering at the blond soldier. She softened, though, in an instant when Nyssa squeezed Laurel’s hand. "I'm just glad I didn't lose you. They  _ shot _ you." 

"You will never lose me, hayati. And I'm fine." Nyssa groaned in pain as she lifted her shirt and the two bullets that had temporarily stymied Nyssa popped out and rolled onto the floor. Laurel could see the exit wound knitting, just under Nyssa's ribcage, and she winced. As she did so, though, she could sense the blond soldier's leer before she saw it. 

"Aw, are you two together or something? Is she your  _ girlfriend?"  _

Nyssa just rolled her eyes, letting out a faint sigh of fatigue and exasperation as another soldier then joined in. They knew what was going to come next - Laurel and Nyssa had been together for over a thousand years, but one thing that had worsened, rather than gotten better, was the way the world saw them. 

"Feel free to make out in front of us. Always found that hot." 

"To call you childish would be an insult - " Laurel snapped, "- to children, that is. You speak like prepubescent boys guided by nothing but the pathetic newfound stirring of your loins. You could not even begin to fathom with your simple mind the depths of love I have for this woman. You lack the maturity to understand how her very breath awakens my faith and her smile strengthens my soul, that even after centuries together I fall in love with her more every single day. She is not my  _ girlfriend,  _ little boy _.  _ She is my moral compass, my north star, my guiding light when I am lost."

"And your wife," Nyssa added helpfully and Laurel almost forgot her anger for a moment as she automatically smiled. Nyssa had a way of doing that, of tempering the storm of emotions raging in Laurel's head at the best of times. 

“Yes,” Laurel said. “And she is my wife.”

Slowly, the soldier crouched down so his face was uncomfortably close to Laurel’s. “So you’ve joined the twenty-first century. Congratulations. Why the fuck should I care about that?”

Laurel did not even flinch. "Because if you so much as touch a hair on her head, you will find out just how much." For good measure, she headbutted the man, with such force that he was knocked onto his back, his head hitting the van floor with a satisfying  _ thump _ .

"Ralph!" one of the other soldiers yelped, immediately going to his aid. 

"He does look like a Ralph, doesn't he?" Laurel observed. 

“Yeah. I think he does,” Nyssa said after a moment. “That was nice, though.”

Laurel smiled. “Yeah?”

"Indeed, my love. Romance  _ and _ stamina?” Nyssa said teasingly, her chained hand going behind Laurel’s neck to pull her wife towards her. “You must save some for the rest of us, dearest." And despite their circumstances Laurel laughed.

"What do you think, Nyssa?" Laurel asked quietly. "Do you think this could be like Marrakech in '67?"

Nyssa smiled back. "You read my mind." She waited, then leaned in as if to kiss Laurel, but at the last second they both moved so quickly the soldiers didn't even have a chance to think, let alone raise their guns. With her chained hands Laurel got a hold of the two soldiers nearest her while kneeing a third between the legs. She knew from the crunching sound she heard that Nyssa had probably broken some bones, and as Laurel caught sight of Ralph feebly stirring a few feet away, she kicked his face for good measure. 

Then and only then did Laurel pull Nyssa towards her for a kiss, and she sighed contentedly in her wife's mouth. 

"Keys?" Laurel asked, and Nyssa shook her head. The two of them rifled through the soldiers' pockets just to be sure, but they came up with nothing. "Shit.”

“It seems we are out of luck. They must have locked us in from the inside. We must simply await our fate, habibti." 

“I hate doing that,” Laurel muttered. 

"I know you do, hayati, but we are out of options." 

Laurel looked up, met her wife's eyes. "How are you always able to stay so enduringly patient?" 

Nyssa smiled back. "Why, from centuries of practice, of course." 

As if on cue, the van ground to a halt, and when the doors opened by yet more soldiers, Ralph’s unconscious body rolled out with a thump.

Laurel cleared her throat. “Any chance you motherfuckers can get these chains off us?”

"Perhaps don't lead with that, my heart," Nyssa said, but it wasn't with a lot of conviction and she was unsurprised when the soldiers ignored her words and dragged her to her feet. Next to her, they were doing the same with Laurel. 

"Habibti, I love you, but you know playing nice isn't going to get us anywhere," Laurel said, annoyance laced into her tone from how the men were gripping her shoulders with far more force than necessary.

"True. We are usually better judges of character," Nyssa said, speaking now to the woman who had orchestrated this whole fiasco - Amanda Waller. 

Waller didn't reply, just glowered back at Nyssa. 

"It's a nice plane, Amanda," Laurel said, as Nyssa was frogmarched onto the plane waiting for them.

"There's a TV, Laurel!" Nyssa called over her shoulder, and Laurel couldn't suppress her laugh if she wanted to. 

"Ooh! Any champagne?" Laurel asked, her heart soaring when the words elicited a laugh from her love. 

Her smile was short-lived, though, as Waller brought up the rear and the plane door closed behind them. This was Laurel's second worst fear come true, of capture and inevitable experimentation, and she wondered if it would lead to her greatest fear of all - that she would be separated eternally from her beloved. 

She closed her eyes, as she was being strapped onto the seat of the plane next to her wife. The restraints around her ankles were unnecessarily tight and Laurel could barely move her wrists, but in that moment she felt the gentle press of a single finger hooking around one of hers. It was Nyssa, reassuring her through the tiniest touch that she was there, that she was okay, that they would be, and Laurel wanted so badly to seize Nyssa's hand and kiss it, but she couldn't. 

So instead, she squeezed her wife's finger in return, and then murmured the prayer that she hoped was sent up to the heavens, for the two of them to emerge from this intact and together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What did you make of this? If you made it this far and enjoyed, please leave me a comment - I thrive on feedback and would love to know what you think.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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